Piece of Mind - Rogue Thoughts
by MadBat27
Summary: Quick streams of consciousness from Batman's Rogues Gallery. (Feel free to request Batman villains you'd like to see.)
1. Riddler - Sinking Feeling

Sinking Feeling.

What ship makes it feel like you're drowning?

You stay afloat but suddenly not everything is smooth sailing. And it never will be again. Nothing ever gets easier. Once you reach the rougher waters, the sharks begin to circle and the fever sets in. The greatest riddle of all is why anyone bothers. Is it even worth it? The loved one you cherish, the reputation you build, the achievements and careers and families, all so easily stripped away. In a world that bowed to science and threw away the notion of God and religion and all the other easy answers humanity concocted, how can anyone believe in morality? Or, indeed, in love? In anything that cannot be shown and measured in controlled conditions. Show me the empirical data that says you matter. I suppose they gave up asking. But not me. I still pose the important questions. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Why does it matter? I don't have the answers. Perhaps I never will. It may take a smarter man than I, but I've yet to meet one… I wonder if I ever will.

Hardship is the answer, of course.


	2. Joker - I Laugh When It Hurts

The question is: was I mad before I donned the hood?

Don't ask me, I can't be trusted. I remember it a thousand different ways. There are nights - long, cold, lonely nights in Arkham - when I think about my past. I have flashbacks to my youth, and I see myself as a Lord of the English Houses with a deformed smile. I remember an explosion leaving me with nerve damage that trapped my face in a permanent smile. Sometimes, I'm an animated mobster or a nihilistic mastermind; others, a failed comedian or a fired technician working with chemicals. I've even dreamt that I was an actor with a poorly hidden moustache.

But does it really matter? Half the time, I don't even think I'm real. None of it is. It's just one big cosmic gag, and we're the butt of the joke. When will you see that it's better not to worry? Just keep smiling. Be happy. Look on the bright-side of life. And death.

Who cares what I was? It's who I am now that matters. After all, it's not the build-up but the punchline that makes the show. Let's face it, it's not like this is high-brow. Slapstick violence is the order of the day, and you can't make omelettes without breaking a few Robin eggs.

Just forget about my real identity, love me for who I am! Plain old imperfect me, whacky humour, homicidal rage and all. But, I suppose, if it matters that much, I'll tell you what I can. If it's important to you, it's important to me. We can flick through family albums, take a trip down memory lane. You can be the Homecoming Queen. Ooh hahaha!

No, stop. It hurts when I laugh. Or is that the other way around? Come on now, tall, dark and brooding. What's the plan? You do have a plan, don't you? I imagine you've already run fingerprints, DNA analysis, facial recognition, voice recognition, blood and teeth. Knowing you, you've even used my cute little ears. Ha! And not a thing.

It's starting to look like I don't exist. Maybe, I'm in your head. Maybe you're in mine! The whole actor angle is looking pretty good right about now, don't you think?

So tell me, Batsy, can you see the hairs on my top lip?

Here, have a closer look. I'll take it off. I'll take the whole face off. Hahahahaha!


	3. Calendar Man - Bad Days

July seventeenth, broken leg. September fourth, trapped in a locker. October ninth, broken glasses. October thirtieth, hung from a flagpole by the underpants.

Every one of these was a bad day for me. But for others, countless strangers, these were all good days. Happy days. Weddings, births, first-dates, job offers, lottery wins – all sorts of occasions to smile.

I never had any of those. For me, a day my pillowcase wasn't soaked with tears was as good a day as I could expect to have. So what happened to my special dates? Hmmm? Where did my good times go? Every year, watching the fireworks, telling myself 'this will be my year'. I tried to believe it. I prayed for it to happen. But every calendar on my wall was another three hundred and sixty five thankful red crosses. Another night to be grateful it was all over, and hope the nightmares would be a relief again.

Well, no more. No longer will I rue the days I put behind me. From now on, nobody shall enjoy the day more than me. Forget the dates in your diary, my calendar is full. Every holiday will be a reason to grieve, every great event shall be overshadowed, everyday will be the worst day of your lives!


	4. Two-Face - Heads or Tails

Heads or Tails?

It all comes down to chance in the end. Right or wrong, good or evil. It's all balanced on a knife-edge. One wrong decision can change everything, one flip of the coin. Whether we live or die, hide or fight, go to prison or get off scot free. All the logic in the world doesn't mean squat in the final analysis. Whatever morals you apply are moot. Most of it is decided for us before we even take our first breath. Will we be born into poverty or wealth? Born attractive or ugly? Healthy or not?

There was a time I believed in the system. I truly thought it mattered. But I saw too many evil men walk, too many good men die. Eventually, you've got to ask yourself if you're making a difference. You've got to wonder if any of it is worth your time. Maybe you should just pack it in, give up and go home. Or you take the law into your own hands. Heads or tails.


	5. Ventriloquist - Couples Therapy for One

It's difficult sometimes, living with Mister Scarface. Not that I'm complaining. It's just that sometimes, every once in a while, I thought maybe I could do my thing. What I want to do. But Scarface likes to be in control. You see, I like Westerns – I've always loved horses, and Cowboys and Indians was my favourite game as a child. But Scarface hates their 'silly six-shooters' and their 'stupid spurs'. He prefers mobsters with splurge guns and fast cars. I don't mind all that too much, but after a long hard day dealing with a criminal outfit, I like to relax. Not come home to more of the same.

Poetry is my other escape. At least, it was. Scarface doesn't approve of that either. He doesn't like reading. Baths don't interest him either, nor does painting or opera. Anything I do to unwind is an instant offence to his sensibilities. I can't get any peace. If he doesn't let me blow off steam soon, I'll have a mental breakdown!


	6. Harley Quinn - The More You Suffer

Ahhhh, Mistah J. Ain't he the cutest? A smile to die for and a style all of his own. Some would say a flower in the lapel is a little too much but nuhuh, not me. I like it. It shows traditional values. I like that in a guy. I'm all for having a career, but when you find the right man, it's time to concentrate on the family. Unless you don't want kids, but that's just crazy. No, I see myself as the doting housewife and loving mother. I want a big family like they had in the black-and-white days. Now that I've found myself a keeper, I can have everything I ever wanted. Of course, Mistah J acts like he aint interested or nothing, but he's just kidding around. I love a man who can make me laugh.

Sure, Mistah J can be mean, but he's just laying down the law of the house. He wears the trousers after all. That's what a real man does, the bread-winner, the head of the table, family don. Not a sissy boy that's all smiles and 'whatever you want princess'. Not like Daddy. He spent too much time on the couch, not man enough to keep the covers. He didn't care when the old lady was a little loose, as they called it back in the day. Putting his foot down might make too much noise, and she had a headache every night as it was. She smoked and drank and spent our money away and Daddy just let her. When she crawled into a bottle for the last time, he was right in there after her. I poured them both into the dirt the same day.

Mistah J won't be like that. He'll put me in my place, show me what's what. And once I know the rules, and I don't have to be told twice, well then he'll be affectionate. Then he'll show the love I know he feels. I've just got to learn how to make him happy.

He says I give him a headache. I think he wants me to listen more. I try to ask him questions but he's the stoic sort, keeps his feelings bottled up. Except anger. He's mighty free with that one. But that passes and then he's his cheery self again. And I do see the funny side. It's slapstick.

I just wish I wasn't always the stick.

Still, every relationship goes through its rough patches and most don't have all the added pressures that make it difficult for me and my puddin'. Most couples don't work together, most don't have a famous comedian in the pairing, and most aren't on the run from the police. Most of all, they don't have the mean old Bat trying to break them up. Literally.

Once the Batman is gone, we'll be fine. Mistah J will show me how much he loves me. We'll get married in Vegas, honeymoon in Hawaii and settle down in some place swanky like Metropolis. In the meantime, I just have to keep on showing him I care.

Right?


End file.
